"Paddy?" said Gilbert.
"Yes, Henry Quinn. I call him Paddy. It seems natural to call him Paddy. He's so Irish. Do come with him to-morrow, and bring all your press cuttings with you and read them to me. Paddy wants to talk to me...."
Henry walked away from them. What sort of woman was this? he asked himself. Was she totally insensitive? Was it impossible for her to realise that she was hurting him?...
"Good-night, Quinny!"
He turned quickly to take Mary's hand.
"We're going back to Devonshire the day after to-morrow," she said.
"Are you?" he murmured vaguely.
"Yes. Good-night, Quinny!"
"Aren't you tired?" he asked.
"Oh, no," she answered. "I've enjoyed myself awfully much. Here's Ninian! He's taking us back to our hotel. Good-night, Quinny!"